Back To You
by missmonicaaaa
Summary: Sirius loves her, but Hermione is oblivious. When Ron breaks her heart, he's there for her, but their relationship changes drastically overnight. Stuck with Sirius in a love:hate relationship, Hermione has to decide what she truly wants in life.
1. Is It Love?

**Disclaimer:** Nothing from the amazing world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I am just a poor little girl wasting my time on the computer, and writing stories that play around with the characters.

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**Author's Note:** This is going to be a Sirius/Hermione ship. It's going to be more of a simple, romantic story, I guess, which is new for me. I'm not really sure how I want the plot to develop, so I'm going to post this first chapter, and then we'll see what suggestions I get from my reviewers. So _PLEASE REVIEW!_

Cheers : )

i wanna dance with you in the rain.

P.S. Takes place in Hermione's seventh year, and we'll pretend that Sirius never fell through the veil, and he's still in hiding from the Ministry.

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_**Is It Love?**_

Just outside London, hidden in the countryside, there was a small village by the name Ottery St. Catchpole. It was the middle of December, and the heavy snow that was falling cast a beautiful, silent charm on the houses, stifling any sounds of chirping birds and breezes that floated through the naked limbs of trees.

A little way up the main road there stood several houses, each a good half mile apart, their shingled red roofs smothered in a snow pillow of at least two or three feet. But one of these houses was different. It was tall, perhaps with seven stories, and appeared extremely unstable, as though the smallest wind could topple it. Surrounding this strange building was a large, unkempt garden, but the undisturbed snow sparkling over it cast a serene appearance, as though it was a small clearing in a magic forest.

This house is where our story begins.

Inside, the atmosphere was as relaxed as outside, the calming mood of another approaching Christmas leaving everyone contented. But even so, there was still a shadow that hung over the occupants of this house—for these weren't people of the likes that inhabited the rest of Ottery St. Catchpole. These people were witches and wizards, and they were part of a secret organization that was fighting the world's greatest evil.

But perhaps it does not do good to sound so dramatic, for these people certainly would not allow even these dangers to ruin their holidays. That was why they left their headquarters, and came to this house for Christmastime.

In the kitchen, a woman with slightly graying red hair was watching a pot of stew stir itself as she chopped vegetables. A tall, black man was sitting at the small table, swigging from a mug of hot ale, and conversing with another red headed man, trying to avoid the most pressing topic of discussion.

A little way to your left, you would have seen a doorway leading to a cramped parlor, in which five people were lounging, three young women and two men, not talking much. One of the girls—she had red hair, too—was stretched on an overstuffed sofa, her head supported on the armrest as she lazily flipped through a magazine. Opposite her sat another woman—this time with pink hair—curled in the arms of a man who looked tired and years older than his age, together whispering in quiet undertones.

At the far end of the room, in a dark corner, sat the second man, brooding. His black hair fell in matted layers around his face, and his dark eyes shone with a hardness that showed the years of unjust imprisonment he had endured.

Those dark eyes were fixed on one specific thing in that room. Or, more precisely, on one specific someone. Lying on her stomach, with her chin in her hands, was the last person; a girl whose brown eyes matched her curls, and who was staring into the fire.

The man watched her with heavy-lidded eyes, watching as her knees bent so her ankles crossed in the air, watching as her warm sweatpants slid a little down her calves. He wondered what she was thinking about.

Suddenly, she stretched on the floor and flipped onto her back, one hand resting under her head, the other playing with the hem of her shirt. He didn't have time to avert gaze, and she saw him looking at her. Completely at ease, she offered him a smile, not knowing anything about his feelings.

Her eyes closed, and he watched her chest moving up and down in a slow, rhythmical beat that was her breathing. He couldn't tear his eyes away, why, he didn't know. It was simply lust, he supposed. But after all those years in solitude, he thought he would feel something for any girl. But then, why wasn't there anything with Ginny? His gaze reluctantly turned to the girl lying on the sofa, the exquisite profile of the face, the slender, freckled arms holding the magazine. But she was nothing compared to Hermione. Why had he chosen her?

Was it her innocence, maybe? He doubted it, since she had went with plenty of boys, too. Intelligence? That was also a no, there were plenty of smart girls he could have chosen from. Thinking about it, she wasn't that different, but in a way completely unique. He tried to deny it, but he couldn't. He wanted her, he needed her. Did he love her? No. That was absurd. She was half his age, best friends with his godson. No.

"Padfoot, is anything wrong?"

The man broke out of his thoughts, and offered the man who had spoken a half hearted grin, attempting to be lighthearted. "Of course not, Remus, why would there be?"

Remus shrugged. "You looked…upset."

"I'm fine. Leave me alone and go cuddle." He waved a disgusted hand at the couple.

The woman, Tonks, chuckled. "Don't be so bitter, Sirius. It's Christmas. Things will clear up, you'll see. Dumbledore is getting closer to having you cleared."

"That'll never happen," Sirius said flatly, and settled in his chair again. Silence fell over the room once more, but not for long.

Almost immediately, the back door banged open, and a group of six boys—or shall we say men?—stomped into the room, covered in snow, with flushed cheeks, laughing and balancing their brooms on their shoulders.

At their entrance, the two youngest girls stood up, and walked over to the cold group. Ginny, Sirius saw, wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and kissed him on the mouth, and Hermione stood on tiptoe to kiss one of the other five red headed boys on the cheek. He looked away, hiding the frustration in his eyes.

"Hey Snuffles," Harry walked up to Sirius and stretched out on the floor in front of him, pulling Ginny down as well. "Why didn't you come play with us today?"

Sirius just grunted, knowing that everyone was used to his mood swings and bitter attitude. "Molly didn't want me risking it again."

As if on cue, the plump witch came hurrying out of the kitchen, hands on her hips. "Look at you!" she screeched. "Everything is getting wet from the snow you brought in. Upstairs, all of you, go change!"

Without any arguments, the boys did as the command stated, and she went into the kitchen once more to prepare six mugs of hot chocolate. Tonks, Ginny, and Hermione followed her in.

"I saw you watching her again," Remus remarked lightly, looking at his friend.

Sirius's dark eyes snapped to him. "What?"

"Hermione."

"Leave me alone," he growled.

"Padfoot, don't," Remus warned.

"Don't what?" Sirius gritted out.

"Don't…" his friend tried to find the right words. "Don't seduce her."

"Leave me alone."

"Listen, I know you're desperate for…something. But wait it out. Dumbledore's almost gotten you out. Don't ruin it again Besides, you're old enough to be her father." Remus wasn't giving up.

"Do you know the meaning of shut up?" Sirius asked, irritated, and stood up. "I don't want to hear anything." He stalked out of the room and moved out onto the porch, seating himself on a cold loveseat.

Was it an illusion, what he felt for her? A repercussion of being left alone for so long? He dwelled on it constantly. Sometimes he thought it might be, after seeing her so happy with Ron, but whenever he just watched her alone…the delicate movements, the smile…he wasn't so sure. And what was love, anyway? How would he know if it was love when he didn't even understand what the feeling of it was? It was lust, he decided. That was all. A phase.

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That night at dinner, Hermione was sitting between Ron and Sirius, who did his best to ignore her and get caught up in a discussion with the twins. Only once was he interrupted when she tapped his forearm to ask him to pass the mashed potatoes. The spot on his arm seemed to burn for hours after. 

But Hermione was completely oblivious to all this. True, she had had a crush on him once, four years ago, when she was thirteen and had first met him. But that was all gone. Now she had Ron, who was her best friend, and the sweetest boy she had ever met.

They had begun dating only last September, after Harry had asked Ginny out, and she never regretted the decision for one moment. That is, until Ron had started telling her he loved her. She didn't like that, only because she believed that neither of them had enough experience to truly be able to say that they were. And because of this, she started to wonder what it would be like, to be loved. She and Ron had shared several kisses, but hadn't gone anywhere farther. And when she saw how close Ginny and Harry were, she felt a slight jealousy. But Ron was her best friend, and she wouldn't break his heart.

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**A/N:** Ok, I know that was really short, and I'm sorry. But the plot bunnies are eating my toes, _I desperately need some suggestions_. 

Also, please tell me what you think of my Sirius. I know it's out of character for him, but I thought he'd be sweet like this.

Anyway, if I don't get up to **five reviews** for this chapter, I won't update because it'll be pointless. So it's up to you if you want me to keep going, I'm not too impressed with it so far.

i wanna dance with you in the rain.


	2. A Christmas Tear

**Disclaimer:** You can sue me, if you want, but I think you'll end up paying more for your lawyers than you'd get from me. And then you'd see what you could buywith a stamp collection, a hideous metal armadillo, and a toothbrush. Ha. Ha. Ha.

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**Author's Note:** Thanks so much to all my reviewers: _this-love-is-sirius, R J Lupin's Kat, Padfootz-luvr, Sarmoti, SiriuslyFanatical, Queen Fidget of Beserkia, Writer-by-day, Killer Angel, xScenexBarbiex, SuperFreakk21, _and _MissPadfoot101_! I'm so glad you all like it, and here's your update! 

Cheers : )

i wanna dance with you in the rain.

P.S. For this chapter, you should know that Hermione can't use Legilimency on others, but she knows if it's being used on her.

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**_A Christmas Tear_**

Christmas morning dawned bright and early for Hermione. The late winter sunrise cast a soft, pink glow through the thin curtains of the window, and reflected on the snowflakes that were still falling. Their lazy descent from the sky was quite the contrary to Hermione's restless night.

She didn't know why she hadn't been able to get to sleep, but the stream of thoughts winding through her head simply wouldn't stop. First she was worrying about the Order, and then that switched to Harry, then school, and her parents…

Rubbing her eyes and stretching like a cat, Hermione peered over the heavy, goose down covers she was huddled under, and looked to the foot of the bed, where there was a fairly large stack of presents. _'Christmas,'_ she remembered. But for some reason, the happiness that should have come with that recollection seemed to evade her. In fact, nothing had truly lifted her mood these past few days. She was irritated by that, because she knew she had absolutely no reason not to be happy. It was the holiday, a single precious week that should have left no time to worry about the Order or school.

Maybe it was her time of month. After all, she was scheduled to start again immediately on her return to Hogwarts. _'Yes,'_ Hermione decided, not wanting to further dissect her thoughts and emotions with herself. That was it.

Although she still wasn't feeling any better, the revelation seemed to make her slightly more lighthearted, and Hermione decided that before everyone else awoke, she would go downstairs to the kitchen and make herself a cup of coffee. Being tired and cranky the whole day from lack of sleep wouldn't help anything, either.

Tiptoeing quietly from the bedroom so as not to wake Ginny, Hermione closed the door silently and hurried downstairs. She could hear snoring coming from Harry's and Ron's room, and for a moment she contemplated sneaking in and cuddling up with Ron in his bed. But then she realized that he probably wouldn't like that. A small pang of jealousy gripped her heart as she thought about all those evenings in the common room when Ginny had been lying with her head in Harry's lap, teaching him how to braid her hair, then laughing and kissing him as he hopelessly tangled it. All Ron ever wanted to do was to go to his dormitory and snog.

Remembering these petty disappointments, Hermione felt frustrated with herself that she even cared. Ron _was_ the sweetest boyfriend she ever had, he was just…clumsy.

The magic kettle on the stove began whistling _'I'm a little teapot, short and stout…'_, and Hermione gratefully broke from her thoughts. It couldn't be healthy to analyze one's relationship this way.

Taking a mug from a dusty cupboard, she spooned the aromatic concentrate into it and poured the boiling water to the rim. Honestly, it was time she gave it a rest, and just enjoyed her time with Ron. At least for the rest of the holidays.

"What're you thinking about?"

Hermione spun around in surprise, almost spilling her coffee. Sirius was leaning against the frame of the kitchen door, watching her closely. He was wearing only a pair of loose pants hanging low on his hips, and Hermione blushed, not knowing whether it was from staring at his muscled chest or from realizing that all she was wearing was Ron's Chudley Cannon's jersey and a pair of panties.

"Sirius," she said weakly. "You scared me. Would you like some coffee?"

He shook his head without smiling, his dark eyes just boring into hers, ignoring her last comment. "Youdidn't answer my question."

Hermione sighed, knowing she wouldn't be let off easily. Taking a few steps to the kitchen table, she sat in one of the chairs facing the doorway where Sirius was still standing.

He felt a slight disappointment to see her sit, because now he didn't have nearly as good a view of her as before. That thought in itself disgusted him. What would she think, if she knew how he regarded her?

"I'm worried about Harry," she finally said, not wanting to talk about Ron.

"Liar." He sounded as though he was making a joke, but being utterly serious at the same time.

Her eyes widened at his impertinence, but she did not check him. "Perhaps."

There was a pause. He nodded. "We don't have to talk."

Hermione looked at him, her eyes meeting his. She knew what he was doing, and she was entranced. "I know," she replied quietly. "You can already see everything I'm thinking…"

Sirius broke their contact in surprise. How had she known he was using Legilimency?

"So you know I was thinking about Ron." She smiled lightly.

He cursed himself. _'Damn.'_

"It's okay," she continued. "I'm just being selfish. I need to get over the fact that he isn't as perfect as I wish he was."

"Hermione—" Sirius started. Her eyes raised up to his, and he saw the tears that were hiding behind them. At that moment, he wanted to tell her so much that there was nothing wrong with her, that she was perfect, and that it was Ron who was selfish.

But right then, Ginny appeared behind him, and slipped into the kitchen, breaking the moment.

"Hermione!" she exclaimed. "Presents! Come on!"

Hermione's face was immediately hidden behind a happy, carefree mask, as she smiled at Ginny. "Yes!"

Hermione let the redhead drag her from the kitchen, and into Ron and Harry's room, her talk with Sirius already forgotten.

The boys weren't thrilled to be woken so early, but when they saw the pile of presents, their moods changed significantly. Hermione had gotten Ron a Quaffle signed by the entire Chudley Cannons team, and he was absolutely overjoyed, immediately leaning over and hugging her.

Once the boys finished with all their presents, all four of them ran, laughing, up to the girls' room, and woke the whole house in the process. Hermione was rather curious to see what she had from Ron, and that turned out to be—as always—books. Actually, the majority of her presents were books, except for one. It was a small box, wrapped in gold paper, and tied with a red ribbon. There was no card.

Ron had moved over to see what Ginny was getting, because he was apparently bored with the predictability of Hermione's gifts, so no one saw her slip the bow off the box and open it. Silently, she pulled out another, smaller box from the original. It was a polished wood with an embellished clasp, and Hermione felt almost afraid to look inside. But of course, since curiosity is human nature, she couldn't resist, and tipped the contents into her hand.

It was a ring, she saw. No doubt expensive and old. The silver had lost some of its shine, and the turquoise stone it was set with had chipped a bit in places. Judging by its shape, Hermione saw it was a scarab beetle, a clear indication that this was some antique Egyptian trinket. She examined it more closely, admiring the intricate pattern of the silver frame around the gem.

She looked into the box once more, and noticed that there was a tiny, rolled up scrap of parchment. Fishing it out and unrolling it carefully, she began to read the scrawl.

_Hermione,_

_I wish you a happy Christmas. I found this among some old family jewelry, and it struck me as one of a kind. I know you are not the type of girl to take pleasure in meaningless gifts such as these, but what you hold in your hand is slightly more valuable._

_This is a ring come off the hand of Queen Cleopatra herself. As you know, magic at that time was boundless, and this ring is a relic of that time. Look at the turquoise beetle carefully, and you will see a set of hinges on one side. Open it._

Stunned, Hermione gently took hold of the stone and wiggled it till it loosened. Inside, she saw, there was another tiny gem, but this one looked like a pearl. Her eyes returned to the note.

_Inside, you'll find a crystallized phoenix tear. I would describe to you everything it is capable of, but I am convinced that you already know. There might be only one thing that you don't, though: It symbolizes love._

"Hermione?" Ginny asked, noticing her silence for the past few minutes.

"Huh?" came the absentminded reply. A crystallized phoenix tear? This was incredible. There were perhaps fifty in the entire world, and one this old seemed almost inconceivable. But yet, Hermione believed everything written on that scrap of paper.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course," she answered, turning back to the other three who were watching her carefully. "I just started reading the book Ron got me," she added, gesturing to the open book in front of her.

They all fell for that one, as she had expected. Silently, she slipped the ring onto the third finger of her left hand. Her mind reeled from the surprise of it all. And who had sent it? Vaguely, she thought it might be a Death Eater trap, a portkey, or a spying device. But she doubted it. And last of all—did the person who had sent it actually admit to being in love with her?

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**A/N:** Okay. Here's another strange chapter. I hope I didn't explain about the ring too much. And if I did, I'm sorry. I promise that the next chapter will get things moving more. _PLEASE REVIEW!_

Cheers : )

i wanna dance with you in the rain.

P.S. I hope everyone figured out that it was from Sirius…


	3. New Years, and Hogwarts Again

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Shut up.

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**Author's Note:** Okay. So I'm not in the best mood today, because it's the anniversary of my mom's death. Pretty sad that I'm writing a fanfic, when I should be spreading her ashes. 

Anyway. It's a bit of an angsty chapter, but I tried to make it sound as good as possible. Reviews would be much appreciated.

Love,

i wanna dance with you in the rain.

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**_New Years, and Hogwarts Again_**

Evening fell slowly, putting a peaceful close on the last night of the holidays. The snow had finally stopped falling, but the layers resting over the countryside were as serene as ever.

Sirius sat, brooding, in a chair by the small window in the bedroom he shared with Remus. It was ironic, really. She had apparently loved the ring, but if only he had told her that it was from him, she would have flung it in his face. Still, the fact that she adored something he gave her almost made him smile. But then he remembered that she was leaving tomorrow, along with Harry, Ron and Ginny, to go back to Hogwarts. He'd have to go back to Grimmauld Place with the rest of the Order, and wait again until the mid-winter vacation when they would all come visit again.

"Sirius!"

Someone was calling him from the kitchen, most likely to tell him that Fred and George were about to set off their New Years' fireworks.

"Sirius!"

Resignedly, he stood up and walked heavily to the porch, where everyone was awaiting the show. He forced himself to smile as Harry ran up to him. "Hey Snuffles, where were you?"

"Busy," he answered shortly, but clapping him heartily on the back. "Where's your girlfriend?"

"With Hermione," Harry replied absentmindedly, now being pulled away by the twins who wanted some help.

Sirius nodded, not even bothering to reply. His mind drifted to that morning a few days ago in the kitchen when he had walked in on her making coffee, dressed only in a long t-shirt. She had looked so beautiful then…

Suddenly, both Ginny and Hermione came running out of the house, laughing. Then they stopped, looking out for Harry and Ron. Sirius turned away, not wanting to see Hermione kissing him.

"She really has gotten to you, hasn't she?" said a quiet voice in his ear.

"Remus," Sirius growled. "I'm warning you."

"You're like a lovesick puppy. Staring at her and following her everywhere."

"Remus! I'll haunt your arse if you don't shut up. And it'll be worse than your transformations."

Remus laughed. "I really do appreciate your sense of humor, Padfoot."

"I'm glad," Sirius growled again, "because I don't appreciate yours."

There was a pause, broken only by Mrs. Weasley's shouts at the twins, as Remus contemplated what to say next.

"Maybe you should tell her." His voice was quiet, but Sirius heard him perfectly.

He spun around. "Are you insane? She'd be disgusted!"

"Ah, so you're admitting it," Remus said, a slight smirk on his lips.

"I'm not admitting anything." Sirius turned back around, crossing his arms.

"Fine. But think about it. She should know."

Sirius listened to his friend's footsteps fading into the small crowd that was the Order. He felt distanced from them all. Feeling even more bitter than before, he sat onto one end of the loveseat that was magically suspended on the porch. What did Remus know about his feelings to start giving him suggestions?

"Hey." Someone sat down next to him. It was Hermione.

He couldn't think of anything to say. After a few seconds of silence, she began to look a little awkward.

"Why aren't you with everyone else?" she continued.

Sirius looked down at her, her hot cheeks, her hair braided down her back and hidden under one of Molly's woolen hats. The way she was biting her lower lip nervously.

"I don't belong there," he said heavily, looking towards the dark sky.

"Oh, Sirius," she said gently. "Don't say that. You belong with us more than anyone else. You're the only family Harry has, and you mean so much to the rest of us."

He let out a bark of laughter. "Of course."

She was quiet, and her gaze rose to the sky as well. How he wished he could stroke her cheek, and kiss her hair, her neck, her lips. But then, the self-repulsion came again. What would she think? He was a lust-crazed, old man.

"Look," Hermione murmured, leaning up to him and pointing to the stars. "It's Sirius."

"What?" he asked, confused.

She laughed, but sweetly. "Sirius. The constellation." She slid her hand down his arm, took his hand, and intertwined her fingers with his, using them to point at the collection of stars once more. It was a merely friendly gesture, but Sirius had to grit his teeth at the feeling of his tightening pants.

"I wanted to say sorry for Sunday," Hermione said, referring to Christmas morning.

She still hadn't let go of his hand, and Sirius had a little trouble collecting himself. "Don't apologize," he finally managed. "It was my fault."

She didn't contradict him, whether from not knowing what to say or from agreeing with him. They were silent.

Fred and George's firework show had begun, and the dazzling reds, golds, and silvers illuminated the sky above them. The sparkles had been enchanted to float back to the ground, and now it looked like an ethereal shower was raining gemstones onto the snow. Everyone had stopped making noise, transfixed by the beauty of it all.

Finally, Albus Dumbledore stepped forward, having come specially for the night's celebration.

"I would like to make a toast," he started, raising a glass of wine, "to all the people gathered here today, and all the people who are not, because they have been murdered by the very power which we are fighting."

"We toast, so that we may all once more live in peace without the worry of a Dark Mark hovering above our homes, and so that we may all once more live in true happiness and not hide behind masks as we simply survive from day to day."

"Let us stay strong, and keep faith in ourselves. Let us love those around us, and not surrender in weakness. And most importantly, let us make choices that are right, and not choices that are easy. We thank Merlin for this chance at a new year, and let the countdown begin!"

Dumbledore took an elegant sip from his glass as the group cheered. Tonks, Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny were all wiping their eyes, caught by the painful truth of the speech. And then, as a group, they all began to chant.

"10…"

Sirius would have liked to weep, too. It was as if Dumbledore had looked inside his very mind and said exactly what he had been thinking and wishing. But there were no tears left for him to cry. He was too bitter. The imprisonment in Azkaban and now in his own home had certainly taken a toll.

"9…"

It was all Voldemort's fault. He had achieved what he had always wanted. Tearing families apart, morphing love to hate. How much longer would this last?

"8…"

Instead, Sirius focused on the small, warm hand holding his, and then looked straight at Hermione. She had silent tears coursing down her cheeks, and her eyes were closed. The salt had glued her eyelashes into little triangles.

"7…"

He reached up slowly, one hand gently cupping Hermione's cheek. She had completely forgotten he was there. Her eyes flew open in surprise.

"6…"

"Don't cry," he whispered. "I hate to see you like this." His thumb carefully stroked away the tears.

"5…"

His black eyes were mesmerizing, but this time Hermione knew he wasn't prying inside her mind. What was hidden behind those eyes? He had her under his spell, she was completely oblivious to all else. "I—" she faltered.

"4…"

Sirius wasn't thinking either. All that mattered was that he was holding her, and she wasn't pushing him away. The thought that someone might be watching didn't register.

"3…"

Suddenly, she spoke up. "Sirius? W-will you kiss me?" her brown eyes raised to his. "It's New Years…You're supposed to..."

"2…"

He sat there, immobilized, and utterly astounded. Had she asked him to kiss her? _Kiss her?_

"1…"

"Now?" she asked again. Sirius realized that he might never get another chance. Leaning in slightly, he finally closed the few inches between their lips. The instant they made contact, he felt an electric impulse hit him. Her breath was sweet, and her lips even sweeter. He could feel Hermione pressing into him slightly, and it gave him a thrilling satisfaction that she wanted him.

But then, as everyone began cheering for the opening of the new year, they were heartlessly struck back into reality. Sirius pulled away, perhaps a little too hastily, but didn't withdraw his hand from her cheek.

Hermione's eyes were wide as she looked at him. He didn't smile. The moment was too perfect.

"I'm sorry," she murmured quickly, suddenly looking down. "I shouldn't have." And the next moment, she was torn from him, running back into the house.

And Sirius was left sitting there, still unaware of anything else around him.

* * *

"You kissed her," Remus said frankly as he walked into their shared bedroom and closed the door. 

Sirius said nothing, just sat on his small cot and looked out the window.

"And then she ran away," he continued.

Sirius still made no reply, but it took a lot of willpower.

"I warned you," Remus finished.

"You were the one who told me to tell her!" Sirius finally exploded.

"Tell her, not kiss her," Remus said calmly, pulling on a sweater and sitting on his own bed.

"I'm going to sleep," Sirius spat, not at all amused by his constant discussions with Lupin.

"You know, Dumbledore saw," Remus added.

"Moony. Shut. Up."

"Did you even think what will happen if she tells Harry? Or Ron? That boy is in love with her!"

It was the last straw for Sirius. He sprang up. "No, Remus. Stop. That buffoon has no idea what love is. _I_ am in love with her. This is not the little game it used to be when we were at school! So stop goading me that I can't. I know I can't, but I love her. So just give it a rest."

It didn't make much sense, but he was desperate to have said it. To say it aloud. That he loved her. That he, Sirius Black, was in love with Hermione Granger.

Remus was lost for words. "I…"

"Just don't say anything, Moony," Sirius said quietly, sinking back onto his bed and dropping his head in his hands. "I don't want to hear it, not now."

* * *

The next morning came crisp and clear, with a cold sun shining through silver clouds. A hint, perhaps, that the new year might not be so bad. 

Mrs. Weasley had raided both Ron's and Ginny's rooms, unmercifully rousing the four teenagers snoring there.

So, still half asleep, they managed to get dressed and totter down for breakfast. Everyone, with the exception of Hermione, had had a very late night and had gotten less than three hours of sleep, and both Harry and Ron had hangovers, much to Molly's horror.

She made large mugs of tea with Sobering Draught, and after nearly an hour of confusion and frustration as other members of the Order who had stayed the night began waking up, Arthur was finally convinced to drive them and their trunks to King's Cross.

In the hazy commotion, no one had noticed the dark circles under Hermione's eyes, or the way she listlessly poked at her breakfast.

"Okay, you four," Mr. Weasley said as they pulled up to 9¾, "behave yourselves. And for the sake of your mother's sanity, write home at least once a week." He winked at them, and allowed them to pull their luggage out of the back of the car and load it onto trolleys. "Have a good term."

They said goodbye, and moved discreetly to the brick wall between platforms nine and ten.

"Hermione and me, then you two," Ron said gruffly, still rubbing his temples from last's night's drinking.

They pushed their way through the barrier and then through the crowd of people gathered by the train, and climbed on with their trunks. Somehow, they managed to find an empty compartment, and quickly piled in before anyone else could. Harry cursed as Crookshanks clawed out of his basket and scratched him.

Sooner than they had expected, the whistle blew, and the scarlet train chugged into motion. There was silence in their compartment for a few minutes as everyone relaxed, somewhat happy to be back out of the hectic life at the Burrow.

"Bloody hell, this hurts," Ron muttered, still holding his head.

"Come here," Hermione said gently, speaking up for the first time that day. "Lay down, put your head in my lap, and let me."

He obliged, kissing her sweetly before doing so. Less than twenty four hours ago, those lips had been Sirius's, she remembered. The worst part was, she had enjoyed it, and now she felt guilty towards Ron. He would be heartbroken. So she stroked his fiery hair, gently twisting the locks between her fingers before gently massaging his forehead.

"Ginny?" Harry asked hopefully, looking at Ron and Hermione.

She laughed and nodded, and Harry dropped himself into the same position Ron was in. Ginny began rubbing his temples as well. And, due to their lack of sleep the night before, they had both dozed off in less than ten minutes.

But Hermione was still battling the events of the previous evening in her head. "Ginny…" she started finally.

She smiled at Hermione lazily from across the compartment. "Yeah?"

"I…uh—nevermind." She couldn't do this.

But now Ginny was interested. "No, what were you going to say?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Is it about Ron?" Ginny asked, now fully alert.

"How did you kn—"

"I just sense these things," Ginny said impatiently. "Now, what's the matter?"

"Promise you won't tell," Hermione said quietly.

"Promise."

"I…er, I…"

Ginny nodded in encouragement.

"I kissed…Sirius." She finished, her cheeks flaming red.

"You _what_?" Ginny asked, keeping her voice low so as not to wake up the boys.

"Yes," Hermione fretted, "and I feel so guilty because of Ron, and I don't know if I should tell him or not, or if it even qualifies as cheating—"

"Was he good?" Ginny asked, a slow smile now spreading over her lips.

"And I'm really worried—wait _what_?" Hermione turned even brighter.

"A good kisser, I mean," Ginny clarified.

Hermione shook her head, completely confused. This wasn't going right. Ginny was supposed to be angry at her for cheating on her brother, right?

"Sirius. Is. He. A. Good. Kisser?" Ginny's tone was like to a three year old.

There was a long pause as Hermione hesitated.

"Yes," she finally said quietly. "No one's ever kissed me like that before."

Ginny pressed two fingers to her lips to stifle her giggle.

"But that's not the problem," Hermione continued, exasperated. "I don't know what to do now."

"Nothing," Ginny said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You won't see him for two months, then you can deal. Maybe he'll forget all about it."

Hermione felt a slight disappointment when she heard that, that he might forget about it. But Ginny was right. She would try not to think about it now. Gently, she began playing with Ron's hair again.

* * *

An hour later the food trolley came by, and, of course, it had both boys up in a split second. Hermione rolled her eyes. How usual. But as they spent the next half hour going through all their purchases, Hermione felt herself returning back to normal after her little evening episode. 

"You know, Hermione," Ron said slyly as she sat in his lap, "I never got my New Year's kiss yesterday."

She barely stopped to think of whom she _did_ have it with as he began leaning in towards her lips. But when they did connect, she couldn't help compare how dull this was to her one with Sirius, even though Ron was forcing his tongue in her mouth.

"Ron, stop," she mumbled, pulling away. "You know I hate it when you do that."

"Please," he scoffed, "you love it. I bet Ginny loves it when Harry kisses her like that."

In reply, Ginny threw her copy of the Quibbler at him.

Ron ignored her, and instead slipped his arm around Hermione's waist. "Fine," he whispered. "We'll do it your way." This time his kiss was chaste.

They all fooled around for a while, and Hermione finally had enough sense to stop before things got out of hand. Harry and Ginny were at least somewhat reasonable, but Ron was on sugar high. Pigwidgeon was already zooming around the compartment, and Crookshanks had thrown up several hairballs in frustration of not catching him.

"Ron," she said loudly. "Stop it. Take your shirt, put it on, and calm down."

He was laughing hysterically at something in the Quibbler, and Harry and Ginny were laughing either with him, or at him.

"Ron," Hermione said warningly. "Put your shirt back on."

"You know, Hermione, you don't have to be such a party pooper," a voice said saucily from the door.

Hermione spun around. "Lavender," she said coolly. They hadn't been on best terms ever since Ron had dated her and then broken up with her for Hermione. "How was your Christmas?"

"Fine, thanks. Hi, Ron," she said, turning from Hermione. "How was _your_ Christmas?"

The laughter had stopped immediately as Lavender stepped through the door, and now he was blushing furiously. "Good," he finally managed, looking extremely embarrassed.

"You know, it's a pity," she continued, stepping closer to him, "that boys such as yourself aren't allowed to always walk around with their shirts off at Hogwarts." She smiled at his flustered appearance.

"I think that's a good thing," Ginny said sharply, "because then girls such as yourself wouldn't really be able to concentrate on anything except those boys, right?"

"Exactly," Lavender said with a wink at Ron. "I'll see you later." And she flounced out of the compartment.

Ron was still blushing, but immediately as the door closed again, he rounded on his sister. "Ginny! What the bloody hell was that for?"

"You have a girlfriend!" Ginny exclaimed. "Do you not even have the decency not to flirt with other girls right in front of Hermione?"

"I wasn't flirting! I was talking!" Ron yelled back, and then turned to Hermione. "You don't have a problem with it. Tell her she's crazy!"

"Mate, calm down," Harry said quietly from behind him, seeing Hermione sink down into her seat and look away in humiliation. "We all know you love Hermione and you'd never do anything to hurt her."

"Yeah," Ron said defiantly, and sat down.

Ginny snorted.

The rest of the train ride passed in almost complete silence, and Hermione did her best to act as though nothing was wrong. But that night, when she walked up to her dormitory and climbed into bed, she cast a Silencing Charm over the curtains of her four-poster so that the others wouldn't hear her cry.

Because seeing Ron do something so minor—just exchange a few coy words with another girl—made her feel so low and shamed, she felt even worse to think how heartbroken Ron would be if he discovered what happened with Sirius. She was just so confused, and no matter how many times she turned it over in her head, the result came to the same unanswered question: If she loved Ron, why did she long so much to feel Sirius's lips on hers once more?

* * *

**Author's Note:** Done. Wow, that was longer than I expected. I'm sorry that I got this out a day later than I thought, my friends thought they'd whisk me away for awhile until I cheered up. (But at least SH kissed! ; P) 

Anyway. Let me know what you think so far, so _PLEASE REVIEW!_

Cheers : )

i wanna dance with you in the rain.


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